Page 38 of Cruel Offer
“I was informed of the incident that occurred outside your studio this afternoon. Emelia’s mother called from her car after a man chased her down the street trying to get a statement about you.”
Steepling my fingers against my temple, I clench my eyes as I realize there’s nothing I can say to get myself out of this. The paparazzi invaded my workplace and violated my dancers’ privacy. They harassed a client. Because of me.
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea those men were going to show up. I tried to get rid of them.”
She sighs and tries another smile. This one also fails to impart any measure of comfort. “Look, Piper. We love you and we love having you as a teacher here. But we can’t risk the safety of our clients. I’m afraid if it happens again, we’re going to have to let you go.”
I perk up at her words. I’d been fully prepared for her to fire me immediately.
“It won’t happen again.” Sitting up straighter, I nod determinedly, as if I can make that statement come true by the sheer force of my will. “I promise.”
“Good. We’ll see you next week, then.”
Horrified that this even happened, but relieved that she’s giving me another chance, I consider my options for keeping my word. There’s only one that I can think of, and it will require me asking Nate Windemere for a favor. And as much as I don’t want to be indebted to him for another thing, this is important. Really, really important. I can’t lose my teaching job.
Besides my Nana, it’s all I have in the world holding me together.
16
PIPER-LILY
It’s early enoughthat I can still see Nana before visiting hours are over. My nerves are shot after what happened at the dance studio and I desperately need something to calm me down. After stupidly checking my phone, half expecting a text from Nate, I realized that no one is going to comfort me.
No one but Nana.
She’s sitting in the window seat as she normally is, crocheting a blanket that’s draped over her lap. The last time I was here, she’d just started a new row, but it looks like she’s completed several since then. Even though I’d grown up with her always around, I never realized Nana liked to crochet or do anything crafty until she came to live here. Her hobbies were shopping, going to the theatre, brunching.
Now, she putters with all sorts of things. Papercrafts, watercolors, beading. She’s also in charge of organizing the monthly activity calendar, which isn’t surprising given her years of putting together charity fundraisers, big dinnerparties, and other social events on behalf of her and my grandpa.
Even at her advanced age, Nana makes things look effortless. I wish I had an ounce of her composure and grace, her ability to handle anything with a smile. She’s like my mother that way, always covering her emotions with a perfect smile. That must be where my mom learned it.
“Piper-Lily, darling! This is unexpected.”
Nana gives me a tight, one-armed hug as I bend to kiss her cheek. Looking me up and down, she pulls at my pink leggings with a pinch of her thumb and first finger.
“Did you come here right from teaching?”
I didn’t bother to change at the studio after class was over. After everything that happened, I only wanted out of there and pulled on a pair of leggings over my leotard, slipped into my shoes, and left. Looking down at myself now, I cringe. I look sloppy.
My white off-the-shoulder T-shirt hangs down my right arm, showing the satiny strap of my body suit. My hair is still in a messy bun and I’m sure my mascara ran in the car after I attacked a few stray tears with a tissue.
“Yes,” I admit. “I just got done with my group of five-year-olds. I should have changed into something more presentable before coming over. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Don’t be sorry. You look beautiful. You always look beautiful.”
“Thanks, Nana. So do you.”
She looks impeccably elegant, of course, in a silk blouse and pressed black slacks. Along with her wedding set, she’s also got on a huge Colombian emerald cocktail ring thatI’ve admired since I was a little girl, thanks to its resemblance to a green apple Jolly Rancher.
“I believe I heard something about you going on a date recently?”
She says this so nonchalantly as she resumes crocheting, but meanwhile my heart stutters in my chest. How could she know that? Nana doesn’t read the gossip sites on the internet. Maybe the staff or the other residents have been gossiping.
Pulling up a chair beside her, I pick up the end of the blanket off the floor and pull it onto my lap. Now it’s covering us both.
“Oh, it wasn’t a date, Nana. Just an outing with a friend.”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “I see. What’s his name?”
